


Sapphic Santa

by sapphirecobalt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Christmas AU, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fem!Cas, Fem!Jock!Dean, Fem!Punk!Cas, Fluff, Genderswap, Good Father Chuck, Good Parent Chuck Shurley, Good Parents John Winchester & Mary Winchester, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jock!Dean, Language, Lesbians, Light Angst, Strong Language, fem!dean, genderbent, punk!Cas, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirecobalt/pseuds/sapphirecobalt
Summary: Fem!Cas and Fem!Dean "gender swap" Highschool AU.For Castielle, the holidays aren't holly nor jolly, until a surprise visitor drops by her apartment. And they come bearing gifts!
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, DeanCas, Destiel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44
Collections: Destiel Instagram One Shot/Art Contest - December 2019





	Sapphic Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Edit (1/2/20): There are a few swear/curse words, but no homophobic slurs.
> 
> Edit: I wrote this fic for destiel.fanfiction's Instagram December one shot contest. 
> 
> Edit (8/25/20): This fic has not been beta'd, so any and all errors are my own.

Today was awful.

Castielle rested her head on her fist, the tiny ledge digging into her elbow, as she stared out of the window -not really seeing anything, on account of being stuck in her head. It was because of this that she failed to notice the swarms of people getting on and off of the bus, the children bouncing in their seats, the rambunctious yet excited chatter, and all of the boxes and shopping bags her fellow passengers decided to carry with them, resulting in less space than usual. 

Something small and white moved in Castielle’s peripheral vision, drawing her attention. She blinked rapidly and lifted her head as it began to snow. The flakes fell softly, delicately, as they often did in Hallmark Christmas movies. Castielle looked at the falling snow with longing. The snow, once inviting, now seemed to mock her. _You're always too busy to make snow angels,_ the thick blanket of snow on the ground, left behind from an earlier blizzard, seemed to whine.

Castielle sighed. If the snow on the ground somehow developed the ability to talk, it would not have been wrong.

If the brightly lit shops and illuminated lamp posts the bus drove past could talk as well, Castielle imagined them reminding her she's always either rushing to complete school work or cramming for tests and waitressing, as if she could forget the reason she never has time for herself or her friends.

The pedestrians, on the other hand, could talk, and if they knew, well, Castielle imagined it like this: the two elderly women taking a walk together would sit her down for a cup of well-earned coffee in a café that smelled of chocolatey baked goods, and remind Castielle the only reason her and her dad weren’t out on the cold, December streets was because of her job at the local dinner.

The jogging man, who looked more dressed for summer than winter, seemed like the kind of guy who'd drag Castielle all the way to the gym, make her wait almost an hour only to tell her it's her own fault dad quit his job and she deserved all of the yelling she received for mixing up orders, with a flushed face all while he lifted weights. 

The short couple walking their dog came off as people who would reprimand her for overreacting, after all balancing school and work is easy, and Castielle simply needs to suck it up and take responsibility for her actions.

Or perhaps she’s being too hard on herself, she ponders, imagining perfect strangers confirming her fears. 

As for the couple’s large dog, Castielle somehow knew, deep down, the Golden Retriever would’ve sat on her lap and licked her face in reassurance if she could meet them. _It's not your fault. You deserve better,_ Castielle fantasized the dog saying. _Your dad will find a job soon. You won't be stressed for much longer._

As the bus made its way through the maze of a city, loading and unloading passengers with their belongings, Castielle tried to cling to these thoughts, tried to believe her random dog with an imagined ability to speak plain English and an understanding of her situation.

Castielle didn’t even notice the tear which streamed down her face until she got out of her head long enough to feel something cold and possibly wet slide down her cheek. She wiped away at it and sniffled. She didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of people asking if she was okay and asking what was wrong because so many things were wrong she didn’t know where to begin-

Another counterproductive tear fell. She wiped at it furiously and sighed. She closed her eyes, leaned back, thanking God that this bus came with headrests, since not all of the city buses were that lucky. For the first time in what felt like weeks, she allowed herself to feel. To feel tired from lack of proper sleep, to feel exhausted after dozens of shifts on her feet, to feel angry at all of the disrespectful customers, to feel sad because she mourned the way things used to be, and above all, to feel like the world’s against her despite all logic telling her otherwise. A small headache developed.

She took a breath. Then another. A third one, this time deep. Her fourth and fifth breath led to half a dozen more, all deep and calming, allowing her to clear her mind.

Castielle turned to face her reflection in the window, not wanting to look like she had been crying.

Her shaved hair started growing back a few months ago, for which she was grateful since it kept half her head from freezing; long strands of frizzy so-dark-it-looked-black hair fell from her low ponytail and stuck out at odd angles from underneath her lavender knit cap. With a bit of weariness, she looked into the eyes of her reflection. The redness in the white of Castielle’s watery eyes did not compliment her blue irises and they clashed with the bags under them. Castielle sniffled without meaning, paying attention to her nose. It’s large, she thought, as far as noses go, and the bridge didn’t have any bumps, although the tip was red. In fact, she realized, most of her face was pink if not red where it wasn’t its usual tan.

Castielle sighed. She did, in fact, look like she had been crying. If her best friend Deanna were here, she’d tell Castielle that she looks like Rudoph the Red-nosed Reindeer worked for five days like every single one of them was Christmas, then fell face first into a sticky batch of cranberry and white chocolate cookie dough, while trying not to fall asleep on his only break. At least Castielle could easily blame her redness and wet eyes on the below-freezing temperatures outside, however, her taste in friends was another matter. 

Castielle rested her head against the cold window, no longer wanting to see the almost pitiful permanent exhaustion in her features, much preferring to watch the world around her go by in a blur of colors and lights.

***

Walking in the snow used to be fun.

Castielle would take her time, marvelling at the Christmas decorations on all of the houses, businesses, and stores; it always got her in the holiday spirit. But ever since her job at the dinner, which was far enough to merit taking public transportation _and_ walking three blocks from the bus stop to her apartment regardless of the weather, walking in the snow became a way to get out of it. Soon after being hired, not only did she grow too tired from late night homework sessions and working as many hours as possible, she also grew irritated when dealing with people, try as she might not to let them get to her. To top it all off, Castielle’s only pair of gloves went “missing” (Castielle’s coworkers swear up and down they have no idea who took it, but she suspects otherwise), which leaves her stiff hands with a burning sensation she can’t entirely feel due to them also being numb, making unlocking the dark green front door all the more difficult, but she manages. Before going inside, she remembers to shake all of the snow off and steps into the warm apartment, leaving almost a pile of snow in her wake.

Castielle locks the door behind her and places the keys in the ceramic bowl on the small wooden table by the door. The apartment seemingly warmer than usual, Castielle takes off her cap and tan trench coat, along with most of her exhaustion, hanging both up on the rack next to the table. It’ll take some time for her to warm up, she thinks while taking her shoes off and leaving them under the table, but a blanket, some reheated soup, and a warm bath should speed the warming process. She headed in the direction of the kitchen to-

“Deanna?”

"Heya, Cassie," Deanna fidgeted a few feet from the apartment entrance.

"What are you doing here?" Cassie frowned, confused but not complaining. She didn't know why her best friend was here, but couldn't deny the sudden warmth blooming behind her sternum had nothing to do with the heater. 

Deanna closed the gap between them.

Castielle’s heart started beating faster

Deanna took both of Cassie’s hands in her own. At least she would have, if she didn’t wince at the touch of Cassie’s hands. “Jesus, Cas, did you freeze to death on the way home?” Deanna asked giving Cas an incredulous and concerned look and tone.

Cassie gave her a “Resting Bitch Face” Sammy, Deanna’s younger sister who’s known for her notorious facial expressions, would be proud of. “It’s snowing outside, I don’t have any gloves, and I get cold easily,” even her tone scowled. Cas had a long day, and although Deanna’s presence in her apartment was always welcome, she did want to warm up and relax at some point; curiosity, however, kept her feet firmly planted on the spot.

Cassie never once took her eyes off of Deanna as they stood mere inches apart. She looked deep into Deanna's green eyes, took in the constellation of freckles across her nose and cheekbones, as well as the grin plastered on her face and tilted her head in confusion.

Deanna bit her lip, unable to contain her excitement. "I have a surprise for you," Deanna reached into the pockets of her letterman jacket and taking out a ball of black cloth, which she gave Cas.

Cas took said ball of cloth and, upon further inspection, realized that it’s actually a pair of black winter gloves. She separated the gloves and put them on. They were really soft and warm enough without being in Deanna’s pockets and...a perfect fit. Cassie fluttered her fingers, her hands already starting to feel a bit warmer. She looked up at her best friend. “Thank you,” she spoke softly. But one look into Deanna’s eyes and Cassie could tell there was more. “Am I correct in guessing you didn’t come all the way here to gift me a pair of gloves?” she surmised.

Instead of simply telling Cas, as most people are wont to do, Deanna stepped to the side and extended an arm, as _she_ is wont to do. "Ta-da!" She sang.

Castielle looked from Deanna to her apartment. The confusion in her brows turned to awe as her eyes got wider and her jaw dropped. Her apartment had been transformed.

The furniture was the same: the same eyesore of a tweed couch across from the same the same flat screen tv on the same brown table, and the same mismatched coffee tables.

But the tree was new. The giant fake Christmas tree in the far right corner of the living room was new. The delicate ornaments on the tree, along with the colorful lights were new as well. And the snowman statue on the coffee table was new. The wreath hanging on the wall to the left, which separated the kitchen from the living room, was new. The reindeer centerpiece on the dinner table parallel to the wall with the front door was definitely new. The fairy lights hanging from the ceiling in both the kitchen and living room were stunning and delicate and _new_. Cassie looked right above them. Was that-?

"So...what do you think?" Deanna asked. Cassie faced her, noticing that Deanna stopped biting her lip; her grin contrasted slightly with the curious, excited, and worried look in her eyes, as if she were scared Cassie wouldn't like it.

"Deanna…" Cassie started and would have kept going had she not been mesmerized by how different Deanna looked bathed in the warm light of the dozens of fairy lights above. Deanna's dark blonde hair seemed to shine in the light and how did Cas not notice the shadows on her cheeks cast by her long lashes? Then again she didn’t notice the apartm-

Cassie's lack of a response concerned Deanna, whose voice was timid and scared. "Elle?"

Elle shook her head out of reverie. "Apologies." She smiled at Deanna, a gummy smile that reached her eyes, a smile that made Deanna forget how to breath for a minute or two. "It's beautiful," Elle replied in awe, looking around.

"I-uh-” Deanna took a deep breath before continuing “-I know how much you love Christmas, and you're always taking care of me, so I thought I'd do something for you in return," Deanna explained.

"You didn’t have to do that," Elle replied, still marvelling at the decorations, amazed, yet unsurprised, at Deanna’s need to take care of loved ones.

"Uh, yeah I did," Deanna responded with the air of someone who stated an obvious fact. "You take care of me all the time, Sunshine-”

“Because _you_ are always taking care of others and often neglect taking care of yourself,” Cassie interrupted.

Deanna dismissed this with a wave of her hand. “This isn’t about me; this is about you,” she began. Elle noticed the determined look in Deanna’s eyes and let her say her piece. “Look, I know you've been miserable this past month, ever since your dad lost his job-" Cassie winced at this, "-and you started blaming yourself-" Elle opened her mouth to argue it was, in fact, her fault, but Deanna wouldn't let her get a word in; Deanna held up a finger and pointed at Cassie, "-we've been over this, Cas. Your dad quit 'cause of douchebag homophobes. Not because of you-" Cas made an attempt to argue and Deanna rolled her eyes, "-your dad quit 'cause he couldn't stand the skeazy comments his asshole coworkers made at us on our date at that fast food joint. But that doesn't mean it's your fault, dude. You can't control what Chuck does-" Deanna's face and tone softened as she gazed into Cas' watering eyes, "-isn't that what you always tell me when I blame myself for shit that's not my fault? That I can’t control other people’s actions? And that I need to stop taking things so personally?" Deanna laid it on thick, and she knew it's probably unfair to use Elle's words against her, but she needed Cas to stop blaming herself.

Elle sighed. "I suppose you're right." All of a sudden, Deanna's outfit became the most interesting thing in the world. Once Cas realized what Deanna wore, she gave her a very obvious once over while licking her lips, which made the tip of Deanna's ears turn red, as she followed the motion. Cassie love it when Deanna wore her used black high tops, cuffed skinny jeans, which accentuated the curve of her ass, her football jersey (Winchester 69), green plaid flannel, and her football Letterman jacket.

Once the blushing had subsided, Deanna grinned, "'Course I'm right, I always am."

Cassie raised a skeptical eyebrow at Deanna's incorrect statement.

Before Elle could list every single instance where Deanna had been wrong, the latter spoke, "Since you've been miserable, I got a job with Aunt Bobbie at her mechanic shop and saved up enough money to buy all these decorations-" Deanna motioned to the apartment, "-and Chuck let me in a few hours ago to decorate."

Cas looked at her with loving eyes. "Thank you, that was very kind." Cassie looked around the room. "It's beautiful, Deanna." A pause. "Where _is_ my father?" Elle frowned.

Deanna gave a shit-eating grin. "I'm not the only one that pitched in to give you a holly, jolly Christmas." At Elle's confused head tilt, Deanna continued. "My family, mom, dad, even Aunt Bobbie, Uncle Elliot, cousin Joe, and Sammy spent hours trying to find your ol' man a new job, one that pays better than the last one. In fact-" Deanna paused for dramatic effect and rubbed her hands together "-he started today."

Can' eyes went wide and her mouth parted in surprise. "He did?" She squeaked, muttering something along the lines of _Why didn’t he tell me this morning?_

"I asked him not to say anything. I wanted to be the one who surprised you, since it was my idea," Deanna's face grew a bit red, making her freckles stand out, as she scratched the back of her head. "I hope that's okay…?" She asked, unsure.

"All of this was your idea?" Cassie whispered in awe as tears began to well up again.

Before Deanna finished nodding an affirmative, Cas wrapped her arms around Deanna’s neck in a hug that made them stumble back a bit. Deanna hugged back, tight.

“Thank you,” the last thing Elle said before breaking down into a silent sob.

Deanna ran her hand through Cas’ hair in a comforting gesture, giving her time to cry, knowing full well what Deanna’s surprise meant.

Chuck had a job. Cassie could finally quit her crappy job. She could focus on school and bring her grades back up. She could finally go Christmas shopping and figure out how to repay Deanna and her family for their kindness. She could finally spend some quality time with Deanna and maybe even take her on a date for a change.

Minutes passed, as Deanna held Elle in her arms, comforting her before speaking. “I spoke to your dad not long ago. He said he loves his job at the homeless shelter for gay teens, so far.”

Cassie looked up, wiping her eyes and sniffling, “You got him a job working with teens who have been kicked out of their homes for being queer?” Her voice faltered. Both of them knew how much that must have meant to Chuck, as someone who got kicked out of his own household for being bisexual. 

  
  


“Yeah,” Deanna replied, her voice low. “Well,” she pondered, “technically, I think Sammy found it.”

Cas chuckled. “Tell her, and the rest of your family, I said ‘Thank you’.”

“I could…” Deanna teased, “Or, you can tell them yourself. See-” she looked to the reindeer statue on the dining room table “-we’re throwing one of our infamous Winchester Christmas parties-” Deanna looked back down at Elle “-you ‘n’ your dad are invited.”

Cas smiled, eyes full of...love. “That’s not all,” Deanna sang.

“Oh?” Cassie raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“No. See, we all pitched in and got you something you’ve always wanted.” Deanna’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

Cassie furrowed her brows and stared at her in confusion. Something she’s always wanted…? She racked her brain, memory after memory playing in her head as she recalled previous conversations, thoughts, and confessions, trying to rememb-

Cassie let out a tiny gasp and her eyes went a bit wide. “A bee hive.” It was not a question.

Deanna grinned, “A beehive.” She began to ramble, “Well, since you’ll have to wait a couple of months for the weather to warm up, it’s more of an ‘IOU’,But Aunt Bobbie did say you can keep the hive at her house so long as you sell Uncle Elliot some cheap honey, if y’alls landlord doesn’t let you keep them on the roof-”

Elle put her head on Deanna’s shoulder and whispered almost imperceptibly, “How can I ever repay you?” 

“You’ve been taking care of me for years now; if anything, this is me paying you back. Besides...now that you can quit your job, you’ll have more time for me, Sunshine.” Deanna topped off her teasing with a flirty grin. 

Cas rolled her eyes, in fond exasperation, but smiled, lifting her head up. “How did you ever survive?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

Deanna pretended to ponder this. “I don’t know,” she joked. “I guess the thought of knowing I’d be with you everyday, one day, got me through it,” she half-joked.

One look into her sincere eyes was all it took for Elle to understand that Deanna wasn't kidding. “You know,” Elle did a little teasing of her own, all while changing the subject, “I don’t think we ever got to-” she leaned in and whispered “- _finish our spaghetti_ ,” in Deanna’s ear, both of them knowing full well Cassie referred to their second date where Deanna cooked spaghetti for both of them to share and how they would have kissed, _Lady and the Tramp_ -style, if Sam hadn’t gotten home early from Jessie’s house. 

Deanna pretended to look around the apartment from where she stood. “There’s no Sammy,” she pointed out, as if it needed to be, and licked her lips. 

Cassie watched the movement then spared a quick glance at the plant hanging above them “And there’s mistletoe,” before turning her attention back to Deanna’s dilated eyes. 

Deanna gulped, already leaning in. “How’d that get there?” Her voice husky and her tone suggesting she knew exactly how it got there.

Elle’s reply? Pulling Deanna closer and kissing her. The former’s dry, chapped lips felt good against the latter’s soft, plump ones. The kiss, gentle, tasting of candy canes on Elle’s part and apple pie on Deanna’s. 

As Deanna’s hands found their way to Cassie’s waist and as Elle’s hands found themselves tangled in Deanna’s short hair, Cas couldn’t help but feel like the holidays were happy once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this little fic I wrote. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I am extremely proud of this. As always, any comments and/or kudos are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Happy Holidays!
> 
> With Love,
> 
> Sapphie
> 
> Edit (8/25/20): Edit (8/25/20): You can also find me on [Tumblr,](https://sapphirecobalt-1.tumblr.com/) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/sapphirecobalt/)


End file.
